Warning: This fiction contains street language.
D minus 60
- Get rid of the spot in the rug.
- Reconcile with my mother.
- Look at a rose.
D minus 45
The issues with my mother have been going on for way longer than I have had the spot. Why worry about reconciliation now? Maybe I just want her to cry when the time comes.
And the rose? What does that mean? I have no idea. It just came to me.
D minus 30
Okay, the spot is still there. I have tried Windex, Ajax, Clorox, Mr. Clean, Fantastic, Pine-Sol, Lysol, vinegar, hydrogen peroxide, salt, vodka with water, vodka without water, green tea, black tea, and a brown paste concoction from my friend Amy that is guaranteed (her words, not mine) to remove any stain, no matter how old or how nasty.
The spot looks much worse now. Fuck you spot.
D minus 15
My mother died today. Actually my mother died six months ago, but I just found out today. Which pisses me off. For the last six months I have been imagining her looking over my shoulders and criticizing everything I am doing. Every time the phone rang, I expected it to be her saying, "I told you so."
D minus 8
I hate you spot. And I haven't seen a rose in weeks.
D minus 3
Okay. I found a rose. It's small and pathetic. It probably won't survive the night. But it's the only rose that exists in this crap town.
D minus 2
I have been staring at the rose for almost twenty-four hours. Still, I am not sleepy. The rose seems a lot like me. Old, tired, maybe once pretty. Maybe once loved.
At first, I thought the rose looked angry. After several hours, I realized the anger was not in the rose. It was in me.
At first, I thought the rose looked angry. After several hours, I realized the anger was not in the rose. It was in me.
D minus 1
I am still holding the rose, but now she seems to be holding me too. I see beauty in her drooping petals. She is not dying. She is returning. She seems happy, knowing her decaying petals will soon nourish new life.
D minus 0
The rose has me in a loving embrace. "I am going," she whispers in my ear. "Will you come with me?" "Yes," I whisper back.
Spiritual questions:
- What is on your list that doesn't need to be?
- What is not on your list that should be?
- How will you know the difference?
This is one of the Parables for the Spiritual but not Religious Series.
Dec 6 2018 - This piece was written at the Roundhouse Writing Group, Santa Cruz, Guatemala. The writing prompt for the session was: Write about a list, and how you feel as you check things off.
The photo is by me, Some rights reserved. Not many.
